For Love of Dogs

I am without doubt a dog person. This is not to say that I don't like cats. I do. I just haven't had the experiences with cats that I've had with dogs.

My love of dogs goes back to the beginning of me. As the youngest child, my family was well established by the time I arrived, and that included a dog, Snoopy (also known as Mooey, King of the Wild Bull Ootivans - don't ask). Snoopy was a great dog, part beagle, part spaniel (maybe) and everything you could want a dog to be. Loving, funny (yes funny) - Snoopy brought out the best in everyone he encountered. Snoopy was 3 when I was born, so by the time I got to be old enough to remember him, he was a mature but spry dog. I never experienced him as a puppy, but I've heard some great stories. He lived to be 19, a phenomenal age for a dog, and 16 of those years with me. His passing hurt, but he had lived as good a life as any dog could expect, and of course by 16 I had already seen the passing of my mom, so I was equipped to deal with tragedy. This would have been 1987.

I didn't have a dog again until 2000, but in those 13 years I had a number of remarkable dog experiences. 3 times, in 3 separate countries I had encounters with dogs that left me astounded by their being and cherishing the memory of those encounters.

The first was outside of Ames as I was exploring a site for an architecture studio class in college. A rural site, haunted by the inevitable farm dog. Unkempt and covered with burrs, fur that left the strong smell of dog on your hand after petting, all the outward traits you'd expect to find on an outside dog in rural Iowa. But he had the other great dog traits. The indescribable look of joy and trust that only dogs can convey. From the moment we 'met' he followed me like we'd been long friends, getting nothing from me but a companion and some attention. He followed me for several hours until I had done what I came to do, and parting was sad for both of us.

The second was in Ostia Antica, on the coast of Italy, 45 minutes south of Rome. The ruin of the ancient port of Rome, rarely visited by tourists, particularly in the middle of the week. I had the luxury of time, living and going to school in Rome, to visit places like this almost any time I wanted. It was great. And so was my dog friend. He found me almost the second I stepped off the train, and followed me for hours. Rome and most of Europe are cat territory. Cats rule the ruins, living in large groups, fed by the locals, they are everywhere. People have dogs (they stand in line with them at the bank, and let them shit on the sidewalk) but urban settings are not prime dog territory. But Ostia was the home of this dog, and he and I were friends, asking nothing from one another but the pleasure of the other's company.

The third was in Ireland. I had rented a bike to ride from Galway to a place called Oughterrard (sp?) where there was a castle and a youth hostel. The plan had been to leave most of my stuff at the hostel in Galway and bike to Oughterrard and spend the night. I had a crappy map and got lost, following a road until it became a track, following the track until it bcame a trail, and following the trail until it became a dock, jutting out into a beautiful little lake. Inevitably I had to backtrack to find my way, but before that happened I met my dog. He hung out with me on that dock as I admired the beauty of my unexpected surroundings, enjoying my presence and asking nothing in return. Like my dog friend from Ames, he too seemed sad to see me go.

No other creature, at least none that I have experienced, posess the inate love that dogs seem to have. They're rarely perfect - they shit and pee, they bark and chew, but for all of that, their love is ferocious. The derive most of their life's joy from being with you, and give back 100 fold what they receive. They are joy on 4 legs.

I certainly cannot write a piece on dogs without mentioning Primus. Her little body encompasses a spirit that couldn't be contained in vastness of space. She is pure love. For every moment that I curse her when she runs away and won't come back, she gives me 1000 moments of sublime and immeasurable bliss. She wears her heart on her fur, showing every mood a human could conjure.

Skeptics may doubt that dogs can emote, and see those of us that anthropomorphise them as ridiculous, but they have not experienced a dog who pouts, or laughs, or longs for your return. They do all of those things and more, and the world would be a far sadder place without them.

To Snoopy.
To Mia.
To Dof.
To Magic.
To Mr. Tumnus.
To Kuna-i.
To Primus.

Long may you live, and forever will you live in our hearts.